Once
by palomino333
Summary: Swear By the Darkness sequel. Post Animated. "For whatever you couldn't do, Ratchet, I forgive you." He wanted her so badly, but could he live with the fact that he let her down so many times?


I hated End Game Part II as much as the next guy, but I wanted to give these two closure after the canonical end of the series because this is one of the very few pairings that had a heartwarming ending. I don't own Transformers.

* * *

"How's the leg?" Ratchet asked Arcee after helping her to settle down on the recharge berth.

The pink femme shrugged. "It aches, but it's not that bad. It's kind of strange that I didn't feel a thing while we were on Earth."

"That's because we had to fight, and your adrenaline kicked in to null the pain. Those 'medics' must have had their processors up their exhaust ports when they decided to keep you bedridden for that long! Since you were barely given any time to walk, it is still very weak," Ratchet ranted.

Arcee let out a sigh, and held out a servo to stop another outburst. "Ratchet, you don't need to strain yourself over this. We can't go back and change what happened."

He folded his arms. Glaring at the wall behind her, he growled, "I should have the whole sorry bunch of them decommissioned functions. They told me you were doing fine! They even let you walk with me whenever I saw you!"

She shook her processor. "You can't do that without proof."

He let out a sigh, dropping his arms. "Sorry."

Scooting over, Arcee patted a free space on the berth for him, which he slowly filled. "Ratchet, I'm getting worried about you. Ever since we returned to Cybertron, you've been acting self-detrimental."

She rested her servo on his, which causing him to look down at the two, and notice that hers was almost comically smaller than his.

Gritting his dentals, he replied, "At this point, it's hard not to be."

XXXXXX

It'd been a week since their homecoming, the only semi-joyful event of the seven laborious days laced with Prowl's funeral, the race to lock up Megatron while keeping him online for trial, and of course, the bureaucracy of the Elite Guard.

It took all of Optimus's new power to keep officers like Sentinel Prime from seizing Arcee to pump her for possible information on any alternative doomsday plans Megatron and his minions may or not have mentioned during her captivity.

The only thing that would have come out of those questioning sessions would be frustration and possibly anger directed at Arcee for having no memory of any of these occurrences, if they had happened at all. Luckily, that crisis had been averted, and she had been placed, after a day's worth of the new Magnus proving his point, in Ratchet's capable servos.

He in turn remained with Omega Supreme, as was the standard procedure. The massive warrior would frequently offer a penny for the medic's thoughts, who in turn would give a vague answer. He couldn't lie to the mech, but he also didn't want to worry him. He'd had to suffer enough gloom in his life. The same went for Arcee.

Whether or not Ratchet would be reinstated or retired was currently on the floor for discussion by the higher-ups, while others were currently having their own go-arounds.

Optimus was struggling to hold everything together as the new Magnus, and quite a few (such as a certain mech) were quick to criticize him. He barely even saw his team, whose worried members were hoping that this trend would not continue.

Jazz was up to his elbows in paperwork, and he was finding much to his distaste, for it only made him yearn more for Earth and his deceased friend.

Bulkhead was enduring yet another processorache from having to help lay out blueprints for new transwarp gates, as well as pitch in on monitoring his own. His large frame was collapsed on a berth in another room.

Bumblebee's self-proclaimed job of guarding Sari from all-too-curious servos was also taking a toll on him. He always returned with a nasty attitude, his stingers still out, his battle mask up, and with Sari tiredly slumped against one of his curled over fingers.

Still, he always was the first mech on hand whenever she needed cheering up, which was often, and was all too happy to escort her back and forth between Earth and Cybertron whenever she desired to see her father. Ratchet sometimes caught himself wondering if a romantic relationship between a transformer and a technoorganic could be possible.

Sari was still her sweet and positive self, though the latter was taking a bit of a hit. Everyone's had when Prowl had died, for nothing be the same without him. But for her, things were even worse. She could oftentimes be heard complaining about how she was treated like some new toy or science experiment, along with her frustration over not being able to interact with the new protoforms (currently being stored safely in the planet's infirmary) without being monitored. Even the new Magnus could not override this procedure, for Perceptor had declared it essential to scientific research.

She did return home for her father's consolation, but not too often. Sari was smart if to know that by doing so, she would initiate a pilgrimage of observers flocking after her to Earth. She already had a few on her tail as was.

Save for Optimus and Jazz, the team used Omega Supreme, who enthusiastically obliged, as their base, deciding to keep away from the turmoil on Cybertron's streets. The large mech himself was being quartered in a gigantic hangar below ground, which he found to his liking.

Unfortunately, he wasn't a perfect safe haven for Sari. After being taken over and used as a weapon by Decepticons, he had to be monitored. However, the cameras and guards were forced to look solely at him, and not his inhabitants. This only saddened the poor mech more, and made Ratchet ready to march up to Megatron, and shoot him until there wasn't anything left of him. Omega was currently recharging, so he did not chime into his friends' rocky conversation.

XXXXXX

"But that doesn't mean you have to take it out on yourself," Arcee's gentle voice pulled Ratchet out of his reverie.

He looked into her soft blue optics, and felt his spark ache as he did so.

She was trying so hard to make him feel better, but he didn't find himself deserving of her efforts. He couldn't even fathom how she forgave him for letting her fall into Lockdown's greedy servos.

If she did have her memories of being left alone for fifty stellar cycles, and later being taken literally right out from in front of him, the only emotion she would ever feel toward the medic would be disgust. Not that he had kept her in the dark about the past events, of course, but she wouldn't be able to truly grasp what he had done without remembering, and therefore truly feeling, the pain he had caused her.

Ratchet tore himself from her gaze, his shame turning its warmth into a destructive inferno.

He replied in a crotchety tone, "I'm not that easy to get rid of, unlike some 'Bots I know."

Arcee laughed. "No, I suppose not."

After a moment's pause, she asked, "Is it all right if I change the subject?"

"Probably would be the best thing for us."

"I was hoping you'd say that. I've been meaning to ask you about something."

He finally looked back at her. "Go ahead."

"You told me about taking me back to the base after escaping Lockdown, right?"

He nodded, and wondered where this was going.

"I noticed when you told that part, your optics shone, and I was wondering if," she broke off, smiling a little nervously, before adding, "If you could, you know, elaborate on that." She squeezed his fingers.

Ratchet smiled. "All right." The story would help him forget some of his guilt for the time being.

He felt its fiery grasp well up in him again as he continued to stare back into her optics, but forced himself to fight it off as he began to speak, "You were the toughest soldier I'd ever seen in action out there, Arcee. It was five miles to where we needed to be, and it was loaded with gunfire and explosions, but you walked over half the way on a makeshift leg."

Her optics widened. "I did? Why couldn't we transform and go?"

He shook his processor. "The path was too badly damaged to drive on, and there were too many...obstacles to hit."

Arcee shuddered, creeping closer to him.

Ratchet removed his servo from hers, and wrapped his arm around her. Hugging her to him, and continued. "I couldn't even remember the sky's original color. It looked as if it would always remain orange, yellow, and red. I'm glad you don't remember the sounds we heard. They still haunt me to this day." He squeezed his optics shut, and felt Arcee's processor come to rest on his chassis as he did so.

She patiently waited until he was ready to continue.

"It was impossible to find any 'Bot to help us, so we were on our own. You actually helped me out a lot."

"Really? How?" she asked in a surprised tone.

"You had no memory of being a soldier, so you acted like a civilian, and found cover easily instead of forcing yourself to fight back. You saved my aft from being blown to bits."

"Glad about that," she replied with a nervous laugh.

"Give yourself a little credit, Arcee. You were a trooper out there. I asked you to be quiet once, and you didn't say anything again. You didn't even complain about how much it hurt you to walk that far, or how afraid you were of being fired at...Actually, I take that part back. You did cling to me as if I was Primus himself."

Arcee blushed and looked away from him. "Sorry about that."

"No need to be; I didn't mind. It made it easier to know that you were okay."

"It seems like I couldn't do anything wrong around you," she observed suspiciously, raising an optic ridge, "Are you sure you're not embellishing on this story?"

"What you're doing wrong now is not letting me talk," he replied jokingly.

She rolled her optics. "Just giving you constructive criticism."

"Which I'll do my best to ignore. We were almost halfway when you began stumbling. I got worried about you, and offered to carry you, but you shook your processor and pushed on. I kept you going, helping you up whenever you fell, and shielding you when you needed to be. But when we got past the halfway mark, you collapsed. You tried to push yourself up, but you couldn't do it. I picked you up, and carried you the rest of the way. When you started stirring, I stopped to let you calm down, and, erm..."

"Well, go on." She nudged him.

He let out a sigh. "I kissed the side of your faceplate. I'm so sorry, Arcee. I shouldn't have violated you while you w—"

She pressed a finger to his lips. "Ratchet, it's all right," she rested her processor in her free servo and titled it to the side as she let her finger drop. "I wonder if I can feel that again."

He smiled. "Sure thing."

The two shuttered optics as they kissed, blissfully unaware of anything but one another.

Ratchet naturally was the first to pull away, but he kept his arms wrapped around her. "The end."

"At least it had a happy ending. Thank you for telling me."

"Anytime. You'd best get some shut-optic. I'll be in the next room over if you need anything."

"Or anyone," she whispered.

It was Ratchet's turn to raise an optic ridge. "What was that?"

"Ratchet, you've done so much for me, and I...I want you to say with me for good. No more leaving."

"I can't promise that, Arcee," he replied sadly.

She glanced down at her chassis. "But at least I'll know where you are."

It hit him like a ton of bricks. She wanted him to bond with her! "Arcee, you can do so much better. It was a complete coincidence that we even met in the first place."

"But you kept coming back for me, despite the odds. If that's not love, I don't know what is. And I feel the same way. That's why I want you to talk to me, so I can help you this time." She never missed a beat as she declared her testimony, her free servo clenched.

Ratchet felt his guilt return to him in full force. He wanted her so badly, but could he live with the fact that he let her down so many times?

His question was answered as he felt her rest her chin on the top of his chassis.

She stared up into his optics like an innocent protoform. "For whatever you couldn't do, Ratchet, I forgive you."

He felt a soft, relieved smile break onto his faceplate as the guilt loosened. "As soon as this slag blows over, yes, I will bond with you, Arcee."

She let out a squeak of happiness, kissing him again. Though this one was merely a peck, it said more than enough.

Arcee felt Ratchet's servos guiding her to lie down as she drew out. She slowly let go of him, and shuttering her optics. "I knew I could count on you."

XXXXXX

Back in his own room, Ratchet felt some of his happiness tug away from him.

There were too many dark memories of what had happened in his long life to be ignored. He felt vaguely jealous of his mate-to-be for having no memory of past unsavory events, but corrected himself as he lay down on his own berth. She had to deal with nightmares of Lockdown.

"I guess we'll just have to suffer together then. Heh, what a perfect couple we make." he dryly joked to himself.

He soon slipped into recharge, and came face-to-face with one nightmare he had wanted to spare Arcee from.

It was a part he had purposely glossed over in his story to keep the mood from shattering. He did have to shield her from a possible attack, and the only way he had done that was by staring straight into the barrel of a gun, his hands raised, while she cowered behind a nearby rock.

The Decepticon, having finally deemed him harmless, had shoved him to the ground, and fired a warning shot very near his face, leaving a scorch mark on his neck.

The medic awoke with a start, and grumbled to himself, "Better me than her for once."


End file.
